


Him. - a Frank Iero short story

by Costakostya



Category: Frank Iero and the Patience, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Consensual, F/M, Forbidden Love, Not Underage, Student/Teacher, Teacher AU, school au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-21 02:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16567475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Costakostya/pseuds/Costakostya
Summary: He smokes and he is smoking. Present simple and present continuous, yet the two sentences have an entirely different meaning.Emily is studying abroad to get her masters degree in the English language. She had her goal set: Study hard, get masters, go back home and do not get stuck in the place.That was, until she first stepped into her first lecture, where she immediately bumped into a mysterious boy who appeared to be a third year student and had just finished up a conversation with the lecturer.





	1. Prologue

What is it about, this miserable life we all live? It seems to have a shifting purpose that never once remains the same. There have been several occasions where I would lay on my bed, pondering existence. There have been several occasions in which I was not alone in my endless wonder. Many people have joined me in discovering the true purpose of life, but nobody has been able to give me the answer yet.

What is the purpose of my existence?


	2. First day of class

I stared at myself in the mirror, as I have done before on many occasions. I stared at the way my hair tends to curl when it has been dried naturally, at the dimple in my left and at the spot in my neck. The spot in my neck was what intruiged me the most about my physical appearance, most of my moles were in places my parents would have them too, but this one was different.

The weather was dreadful, but I was not going to let that ruin my day. Grey clouds, to me, meant that it was okay to dress dark. I was well aware of the threatening rainfall that was predicted for today, but seen as I was already used to such weather conditions, I did not go overboard in making sure my outfit was weatherproof, unlike my Chinese flatmate, Colene, who stepped out of the door wearing a yellow poncho earlier. 

I sighed and pushed myself away from the table, my desk chair rolling me across my room. I open the top drawer of my wardrobe and pick the first top that would go well with my favourite trousers. Today is the first day of university, and I will and shall look good. Not to impress anyone, that was not my goal. I had never loved a boy in my own country and I did not plan on falling in love abroad. I dressed myself and stood up to check my outfit in the full body mirror. I was wearing a dark red, cropped, off-the-shoulder velours top and a pair of black trousers with a white checkered pattern on them, the legs cuffed. Below that, socks in a colour that match the top and my worn out black Converse All Stars.  
My hair was pulled back in a half ponytail, held together by a red velours scrunchy. I held my book tightly as I stepped outside. I had a black bombed jacket to shield my bare arms from the rain, but water did not frighten me and I figured my make up and hair would hold up perfectly. In the right pocket of my jacket sat my phone, which was covered by a clear phonecase with tiny Santa Clauses printed on them. It might have been only just September, but it was always December 25th in my heart. My earbuds in my ears and my favourite EP playing, I walked towards campus with a confident strut.

Colene was already sat in the room. Not that I was in already, but her bright yellow poncho was easy to spot through the tinted windows. I finished up a conversation with my best friend on WhatsApp just outside the hall and went to spit out my gum. As I stood up straight again and turned away from the bin, I collided with a solid form. My books scattered around the grass field in front of the entrance and I looked up to see what or who had crosses my path. A dark haired boy who was slightly taller than me stared down at me, a cigarette dangling from his lips and his glasses slid down from his nose. He hurriedly crouched and shuffled to pick up my books. He then pushed them into my arms and stormed off after muttering a "sorry". He was easily the prettiest boy I had ever seen.

"Wait, he what?" Colene asked me. The lecture had started already and we were sat in the far end of the hall. She was sipping her green tea and looked at me with great interest. I had told her about my collision with the mysterious, handsome boy who appeared to be shockingly shy. 

"He just walked away!" I exclaimed quietly. "I can't believe my own actions, though. I just stood there, shocked at what had happened. I should have at least bent down and helped him pick my books up!" my elbows propped on the tiny desk, I held up my hands and buried my face in them. 

"Emily, no! I mean, yes, you should have helped him, but because you didn't, it got proven how much of a.... what's the word? You know, a polite young man? There's a word for that..." Colene drifted off to find the words.

"Gentleman. He is a gentleman. And he looked shockingly cute with his messed up hair and the cigarette dangling from his lips..." I sighed and clasped the green tea Colene got me with both hands.

"Wait, messy hair, not so tall, glasses carelessly perched on his nose?" 

"Yes!"

"I saw him! He was just down here talking to the lecturer! He looked pretty defeated when he walked out, though. But I am positive that bumping into you made his day a tiny bit better." She then gave me a wink and halfway turned back to the lecturer.

"Do you... think he's doing the same course? Do you think he's in our course?"

"I do! But he was talking about things I do not yet understand, so I think he's one or two years above us," I felt like I was losing Colene's attention, and as I looked up from the tea to look at her, I saw she was turned all the way to face the front. I had definitely lost her attention. I let out a yawn and drew my focus to the introductionary course of phonetics. 

The entire day, my mind had been with the mysterious student, even so much I managed to burn my spaghetti and accidentally knocked a very obvious mug off the counter. 

At the end of several horrible hours of struggling to do the phonetics homework, I laid back on my bed and closed my eyes, picturing the semi sad and semi startled look in his brown eyes looking down at me.


	3. To Kill a Mockingbird

A month had passed and I still hadn't managed to get the handsome stranger out of my mind. I had dreamt of his mysterious hazel eyes every night since that and every day I made my way to campus with Colene, I hoped he would once again bump into me and pick up my books for me. 

It was another day, another morning where my hope is to falter ever so slightly. I wore my hair half up again, wore my maybe-a-little-too-skimpy checked skirt and completely felt myself. I've managed to look good at least two out of the five days I had class since the year had started. I was looking at my feet, not really paying attention to what Colene was telling me. She always told me about her family back home in China and how much she missed them. I felt incredibly sorry for her, for that she has to miss her family for ninety percent of the year. But it's only been a month and I fear this entire year will be too much for Colene.

"Hello?" Colene said impatiently, clicking her fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Emily, please don't tell me you were thinking of him again?"

I sighed deeply. "How can I not think of him. He was so handsome and I haven't seen him again for an entire month! Not even at the same place at the same on the same day! What if he doesn't attend our uni and I'll never see him again?" Colene snickered at my end-of-the-world contemplation and honestly, I couldn't blame her. I was being quite dramatic, but I've been beating myself up for not even asking for his name or his phone number! Dramatic times call for dramatic trains of thought. Sorry Colene.

The rest of the walk, I half listened to the music in my left earbud and half to Colene talking endlessly in my right ear. It was a whack, unknown band playing from my Discover Weekly playlist, but it was still a lot more appealing than Colene's moaning and I was glad to finally be seated in the lecture hall. We were late, which meant we had to quietly slip in the back, which meant Colene could no longer talk.

Literature had been my favourite part of the English major course since the beginning, and the prospect of discussing my favourite book, To Kill A Mockingbird, made this class all the more likable to me today. 

I was sat right next to the door and while the lecturer babbled along, and I pretended to listen and be interested in his intro, the door slammed into me. Not hard, it barely touched my shoulder. I was too uninterested in whoever did it's apology and all I saw was a tattooed hand on my shoulder and a mumbled "sorry" in my ear. The voice was low and a little husky and overall rather appealing. But I didn't have time for boys. Only the one boy that I had been dreaming so much about, that if we were to meet again, he would have ridiculous standards to live up to. The person didn't ask me to move in though, and made his way to the front of the class. The audacity. I counted down in my head. "Lecturer will yell in three, two, one", but it didn't happen. No, rather than some verbal abuse, the lecturer sighed in relief and a smile spread across his face.

"Ah, finally. You're here! Could you find it alright?" the lecturer asked the tattooed boy that was hobbling down the stairs. A laugh escaped the boy.

"Obviously not, or I would have been here in time," he said, clear in his voice that he found it rather amusing. Or maybe it was an uncomfortable laugh. The boy had an American accent, which was quite unusual. Normally Americans liked attending uni in their own country, finding it superior and what not. A slight grin spread across my face while watching the scene, as soon as my initial shock had passed.

"Class. Welcome." the lecturer regarded his attention to us again. "Today, we will be discussing the novel To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. You had a month to read this, but I'm positive the ones amongst you that are raised in the UK have already read it. You will be discussing it with this young lad today," he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy was now stood in front of the class, so I could observe him properly. He wore light blue jeans that were fashionably ripped at the knees, a white button down that was at least ironed properly (more than you could say about the other teachers in training roaming this campus), he wore leather shoes and a messenger bag was slung across his shoulder. One issue though. Something was blocking my view from seeing his head. He had a rather interesting posture, not too tall, and he seemed to have at least his entire arms covered in tattoos. 

"Yes, welcome," said the boy - or I guess man? - with the American accent. "I'm professor Iero and I would like to dive straight in. I'll introduce myself better a little later on, but I'm incredibly keen on discussing this book with you as soon as possible." the excitement was clear in his voice and the rough edges of it tickled me. 

As he proceeded to ask us questions about Boo Radley and what he could possible prepresent in the book and to us personally, I sat and wondered what his face looked like.   
Then, the person in front of me switched positions and I could see him fully now. I shifted in my seat and studied him from head to toe.

He had messy dark brown hair, almost black. I wondered how hair that short could still be messy-looking. His eyebrows were shockingly well maintained and under there, brown eyes excitedly peered into the classroom. His nose had a cute curve, as did his mouth. Overall, he was incredibly physically appealing, even if he was shorter than men usually are. While talking, he kept looking all across the room and curiously peered at everyone after asking a question. I wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. Only to the way his entire face moved when he did, how every emotion of the word was written on it so clear it seemed to be a page of a book. The intonation of his voice went up again, indicating the end of his question and then, his eyes started skimming the back of the room. My side of the room.

Our eyes met.

And.

It was him.


	4. Coffee and contemplation

As the weeks progressed, professor Iero kept talking to us and with us about the short reading list he had given us. He wished for us to read half a book a week, so we would actually have something to discuss in class. Last week, we finished up discussing what was probably by far his favourite novel - George Orwell's 1984. His eyes sparkled as he talked about it and it was the most endearing thing to witness.

Professor Iero, also known as Frank if we trust the name that's usually written on his Starbucks cup (sometimes he likes to be what he sees as funny and asks for the main character of a book we're discussing to be written on the cup), likes to talk about three things in his class. He likes to talk about books, about how bad Starbucks is but how he has to settle for it seen as it's the only coffee place on campus and about music. It's the only three things he seems passionate about. And dogs. He's really heartbroken he's not allowed to have dogs in the flat he's renting.

He came here out of interest in the country and because it was one of the few universities that were actually hiring trainees instead of fully practised teachers. He recently finished his English masters at Harvard and did an additional teaching seminar before moving to the UK.

As the year progressed, I found myself coming to class earlier and earlier. This was to Colene's dislike. We started walking to class separately again as we did in the beginning and it's not the best on our friendship, but it's not all bad. I don't have to listen to her talking about being homesick anymore. She couldn't appreciate my comment about "talking about being homesick on enhances the sensation" and did in fact talk to me about it less back at the flat.

Coming to class earlier was a result of not wanting to disturb his lessons by barging in late and wanting a good seat to see the glimmer in his eyes as he talked about the next book on our list. It was quite noticeable that I was not the only girl who decided to come to class earlier and earlier. When entering the lecture hall before class officially starts, you'll usually see typical teacher's pets sitting on his desk, giggling at what he says and twirling their hair around their fingers. I'm not sure if they wanted a grade higher than a D or if they want his D.

Frank, however, seemed rather unbothered by it all and sometimes I could catch him talk the most complete and utter bullshit to these girls, as if to mock them. The girls either didn't care or didn't notice, because they'd continue their flirty behaviour. 

After having spent an entire lesson listening to Frank and classmates talking about Fahrenheit 451 (and Frank singing the line "That's why they call me mister Fahrenheit) and looking at the excitement shimmering in his beautiful eyes, I was sad to hear him tie all the ends together and dismiss the class. One literature class was not enough. Most classmates would probably disagree, but it's the truth. My truth. 

Once I had dragged myself home with a walk that took me about twice the time as usual because the syntax class had drained all energy, life and happiness out of my sole being, I was greeted with Colene impatiently tapping her foot on the vinyl floor of the kitchen. "Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," she jokingly said "I was starting to get worried, normally you come home extremely excited after having had class on a Thursday." As she was talking, I took my bra off from under my shirt, flung it in the general area of my bedroom and put my hair into a bun. 

"Why were you tapping your foot so impatiently?" I inquired, flopping down onto the living room couch.

"Because I was in Starbucks earlier and I witnessed something very interesting," Colene put extra emphasis on the very and wiggled her eyebrows near the end of the sentence. Either she was about to spill some scorching tea, or she had gone completely mad. "It appears I'm not the only one who's feeling homesick."

"What are you talking about, Colene? Please, be less cryptic, I've had a long day," which was true. Has she maybe caught onto my slight homesickness, now the time has come I would usually have autumn break? God, I hope not. But I could really use a break. 

"So," she said dramatically, clasping her hands together and walking ominous circles around the couch. I let out a groan of annoyance and she quickened her pace. "I overheard a Skype conversation from our campus Starbucks alllll the way to New Jersey." I shot upright from my slouched position. Frank is from New Jersey.  
"And? AND?" I ask persistently. 

"Let go of my hands, Em, it hurts," I quickly let go off her hands, which I had grasped tightly in my shock. "He's incredibly homesick, but he's happy he made the choice to move, because it helped him get over his heartbreak. Apparently his uni fling dumped him after graduation and he took it incredibly hard."

After the new intel I had gathered from Colene - her news was followed by me pulling every single detail out of her, which is how I know he was talking to his dad, how it has been two years since he graduated and he had already been living in the UK for a year prior to getting this position and finally that his last job had been at the local McDonald's, which he hated. Y'know, with him being a vegetarian and all. Oh. And he was looking for a new relationship, rather unsuccessfully. The latter delighted me, being vegetarian myself as well. Though all this information did make me wonder for how long Colene had sat there and how noticeable she had made herself. 

I was a little glad I had deadlines coming up and that they were all essays, because this meant I could take my laptop to Starbucks, enjoy their free wifi and kind of enjoy their mediocre, overpriced coffee. I sat there every day from after my last class until they were closing and so far I had not yet been lucky enough to spot Frank myself. I felt creepy, like a stalker, knowing all these new facts about him and something in me dearly wished Colene had never told me this and had never pried into his life by eaves dropping the way she did. 

One day, on a particularly busy day, it happened. The professor-in-training himself stepped through the door and walked up to the counter, ordering a latte and dumping a lot of cinnamon in it himself. He then paused to look around and saw that the shop was entirely filled and most tables were entirely cluttered by one person each and all their paperwork. Mine wasn't. Mine only held a small stack of books, which I occasionally opened in my lap, my laptop and my now empty coffee cup. 

I pretended to be entirely emerged into my Word document when he appeared in front of me and asked me "I'm sorry, is this seat taken?" to which I shook my head and gestured him to take a seat. He sat down, placed his laptop and cup on the table and spoke again. "Would you mind if I were to have a Skype conversation right here, or are you working immensely hard on your English lit essay?" oh shit. He knew I was one of his students.

I let out an airy laugh. "I actually finished that the other day. I'm supposed to be working on phonetics right now, but it was such a dread I gave up for today. I wouldn't mind you calling someone, I'm guessing it won't really interfere with my Buzzfeed scrolling." I laughed again and oh my GOD why did I talk so much. I could've just said "no it's fine" or "no I'm not really doing anything". But nooo, I had to ramble. To my surprise, a smile spread on his face.

"I'm not supposed to call for another fifteen minutes. What are you looking at? Any interesting articles?" He crossed his arms on the table and leaned on them, taking on an interested position. I liked where the body language was going.

"Not really," I confess. "I've just been staring at Tasty Vegetarian videos without really seeing anything." He laughed at this, telling me he found it incredibly relatable. We continued our nonsense conversation for another few minutes until he told me he had to make the call or else he'd get his arse kicked on Christmas. He said that's not how he'd like to spend the little time he has with his family. I told him I understood and left him to it, leaving the coffee house.

At midnight that same day, I laid awake, staring at my ceiling. I thoroughly enjoyed his presence today, but I couldn't help milling it over and over in my head. Thinking about what I said that could've crossed a line to him or what I said when I was rambling. I felt a mixture of happiness, guilt (for prying a little) and something else I couldn't quite figure out yet. Oh boy, and his class was the first thing on my schedule for the morning. I groaned and rolled over and while pondering if I'd made a fool out of myself and should maybe skip the class tomorrow - even though that's very unlike me - I fell into a restless sleep.


End file.
